As they both
settled into the plush sofas, she couldn’t help but spread her fingers and move
her hand across the seat of the sofa. It was soft and plush like peach fuzz and
as she sunk into its cushiony depths, she felt as if she was sitting cocooned
in a peach, the warmth, the softness and the cushion. She couldn’t stop moving
her right hand over the covers of the sofa as she looked through the menu and
decided what she would eat today.
HE seemed focused
on something that was happening in Syria. Some part of the world was always on
fire she thought.
How men like to
toast their thoughts and egos on those fires! They just can’t seem to get
enough of the fire.
“Hmmm…hmmm…I didn’t know all that…” After
all, she couldn’t tell him that she didn’t care about what was happening in
Syria or anywhere else. She wanted to tell him how much she wanted the sofa
exactly like this in her house. Her fantasy was how much she wanted to come
back to the feeling of being held, even if it was just by a sofa, at the end of
each day.
“And you know,
this is what happens when countries without a progressive outlook get
technologies which are too progressive for them…its just a great fit… people
have to be ready to embrace the change that technology brings. They can’t
remain primitive…”
“Hmmm…” She spoke
dreamily looking right into his eyes while thinking and imagining how she could
buy green sheer curtains to go with this sofa. She would put it in that small
space between the dining room and her kitchen…just at that nook, with that
little window. She could sit there, hidden from anyone in the drawing room, or
in their bedroom, or her mother-in-law’s bedroom.
As she came to the
present, he was rattling off the order to the hyper-attentive waiter.
Why do they want
to appear so damn obsequious? She found it nauseating, to be always under the
gaze of the waiter. They continuously want to pounce on you, first with the
greeting, then the water, then the food order, then they want to know how the
food is, then they want to know how the ambience is, then they want you to give
them feedback, then…its unending.
“Indians don’t
make any progress because they can’t behave themselves…after all, see how well
behaved they are when they go to the US or to Dubai. You can’t keep a foot out
of line there! But the same people, when they come back to their own country,
they don’t want to follow any rules, they feel offended if they are asked to
stand in line. People only want to make rules for others, not for themselves…”
He was so emphatic, he banged his fist on the table to prove his point.
He was so
passionate about these things, she thought. He
is very conscious of how things are unfair in the world.
“Why people can’t
respect what they have I don’t understand. The Europeans have built a great
society so they are reaping the benefits. We need to do the same for our
country but we can’t respect our own country!”
She smiled her
assent. She had learnt that silent attentiveness was the best way to please him.
He liked to know that she respected his opinion about everything, however
small. He had told her, that he loved her most because she listened to him and
understood that his opinions were important. He was always engrossed in
thinking about the world.
She felt her own
thoughts too narrow in comparison. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t help but
retreat back in her little corner. She couldn’t think of the world like him. He
didn’t want to know the trivial thing she was thinking about. The things he was
saying were far more important, they were about the world, beyond the small
confines of her imagination, which never went beyond the next festival, next
appliance to be bought for the house, next meal to be prepared for her husband,
and at the end of all that, that hot cup of coffee, in front of that small
window, overlooking the big neem tree in the park, how she longed to sit there,
at the end of her work day, before the madness of dinner began. She could just
imagine sitting on that plush velvet sofa, the color and plumpness of a peach,
with the green gauze curtain pulled on one side. The slant last rays of the sun
filtering in and sprinkling the alcove with the mild reminders of the day’s
warmth. She could just imagine how she would pull up her legs, on the
wide-sofa, enjoy her coffee, while looking at the parrots flitting through the
neem tree. She could put her head back on the large back of the sofa, fill her
nostrils and her lungs with the evening smells filtered through the neem tree.
She would get a thick towel or a small tray to keep on the wide handrest of the
sofa, so her mug won’t leave any marks on the beautiful cloth. She could forget
the worries of the world if she got half an hour to herself. She could pretend,
she was rich and plush like the sofa, if she would be allowed half an hour with
it, every day, on her own.
“I don’t know why
Sujata thinks that just because she is my boss, she can treat me like her
private servant. IF women want equality, they have to treat men better than men
treat them…set an example you know…” again that impassioned fist bang.
“I know what you
are saying. Equality goes both ways.” She said tenderly placing her hand on top
of his.
Her feet were
aching. Sometimes she felt like she should also make an effort in the kitchen,
like her mother-in-law. This morning was one of those mornings. A separate dish
for her daughter’s lunch, two curries for lunch and husband’s tiffin, a
separate dish for breakfast…it had translated into two hours of non-stop
standing in the kitchen. She stroked the velvet of the sofa with her fingers
and dug her nails into it, just to feel the sponge pressing against her
fingers. No resistance! No harshness. She slowly slipped her feet out of her
slippers and arched and folded her toes. She could feel the tiredness from the
morning sending shivers up her legs as she twitched her toes.
“Ah! Here is the
food finally!” She was brought back to the table as he exclaimed.
“The way they take
ages to prepare the food, one might think they don’t care if the restaurant is
popular or not!”
“They did take
forever.” She agreed. It was such a decadent luxury, sitting here, being served
piping hot food. She felt a wave of calm and satisfaction wash over her. Her
smile inched closer to her ears as she took a long sniff from the steaming
plate of pasta. This was heaven!
“You look so
lovely today!” He beamed as he reflected the relaxed happiness of her face.
“If only I could
escape from the vexations of Sanjana every day like this!” She smiled back and
gently nodded her assent. This was a good day, a break from all their
routine worries.
“I always feel
that we should learn something from the way foreign organizations do their
work, you know. They don’t overwork their employees. They respect the fact that
people need a break from work and relax but Indian organizations do not respect
the need for personal space…”
She twitched her
toes again and felt the ache shouting its presence and asserting its existence.
She smiled at him
to acknowledge what he was saying as she longed to pull her feet up. She was
sure that the ache in her feet did not stand a chance against the firm softness
of the sofa she was sitting on. She longingly spread the fingers of her left
hand over the sofa and tried to imagine what this would feel like at the back
of her neck and on her feet.
How much would
this cost? Maybe a couple of thousand? She had an FD that was maturing soon. I
could use some of that money to buy this and use the rest for the new almirah
that they needed.
“I have missed
spending time with you so much! How long has it been since we have talked
freely like this!” His voice lowered as a hint of intimacy entered his voice
and he leaned into her just a little. This one sentence seemed to create a wall
around them that insulated everyone out of their little world. They could be
alone even when in a crowded restaurant.
His eyes crinkled
so beautifully when he smiled. He smiled just so only for me. This is what made her feel special on those days, when she felt bogged
down by life and family…these smiles that he kept locked up like precious
jewels, and spent freely on her.
My intimacy brings
out this joy in another person and that is more than most can ask for. I could
tell maaji that I want to buy this plush sofa for the little corner that has
just been freed up, when we threw out the old almirah. They might not agree at
first, the space could not be selfishly made up for one person…but maybe with
time, they could see she needed some place to relax. Her own room after all was
more her daughter’s playground than her place to relax. She earned her own
money, had some extra coming in from the FD…this was possible.
She quivered in
the excitement of the conversation she would have with her husband. He was a
good man after all. He might not see it at first but eventually he
always understood her perspective and supported her in front of her in-laws.
She could do this!
They were done
eating and were lazing around with a cup of coffee as she noticed how the sun
was losing its harsh light and the slow warmth of the sun was all that was left
as a reminder of the summer day.
This warm light!
This is what will be the soothing light, filtering through the gauze of the
green curtains. I will make a cup of coffee just as frothy as this one in my
hand, right here…and I will sit cocooned in my corner and let the whole day’s
worry slip right out of my mind…
As the sky turned
orange, he suddenly squeezed her hand. She had been gazing dreamily out of the
window of the restaurant for a while. “Shall we head back now? It’s been a
lovely afternoon but real life calls back!” He smiled at his own joke! She
stroked the sofa one last time. She wanted her fingers to store up the memory
of this softness till she could enjoy it again, in her own home.
She got up and
followed him to his car. He paid the parking attendant, gave her a cursory hug
and sat down in his car. He was about to drive away when he seemed to have been
struck by a thought. He came out of the car and said, “I forgot to tell you. Ma
wanted to convert the freed-up alcove space into her mandir. I have ordered one
for her online but we need to clean up that place before it arrives. It would
be a nice quiet corner for her to do her Puja.” Maybe something in her face
gave in as he hesitated for a moment, gave her a little peck on her forehead
and whispered in her ear, “I’ll wait for you at home with a hot cup of tea,
just the way you like it.” He winked his dimpled smile at her as he got into
the car and headed out of the parking lot.
Its better this
way. Now I can save up the money for something more practical than a velvet
sofa.
She turned around
and decided to wait in the small caf├й across the road for another hour.
The husband and wife
had taken half day leaved from their offices to spend a couple of hours
together. It was date. Even so, they couldn’t go home together because it just
didn’t look decent. After all, if the son and daughter-in-law had the time,
they should have spent it with their own child who was being looked after by
the parents-in-law at the husband’s home because both of them went to work. It
seemed too selfish and indulgent for the working parents to go sneaking around
the city, acting like teenagers when the parents were babysitting their child
at home assuming that they were at work.
She slumped into a
chair and ordered a chai for herself as she waited for enough time to pass for
her husband to reach home before her so that no one could guess that they had
spent the day together. As she sipped the unnecessarily sweet tea, she felt a wave
of nausea wash over her. She couldn’t possibly have another cup of tea after
reaching home. But she couldn’t say no, when her husband had braved his
mother’s anger to step into the kitchen to cook for his wife. She remembered
the blessings in her life and felt that this cup of tea that was waiting for
her at home, was more important than a stupid fancy for a plush sofa, that
would anyway be out of place in the parents-in-law’s already-crowded house.
***
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